One For The Books
by weatheredlaw
Summary: Yugi is a successful writer having a little...well, a lot of trouble writing his new book. When he gets an idea to write it about a certain pharaoh, Yugi gives Yami a call. But when he shows up unexpectedly old emotions will threaten a fragile friendship.
1. What To Write

**A/N:** I don't know what I'm writing anymore. I like fluff. Lots of fluff. And silly things. And a sarcastic, exasperated Yugi. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my plot and OC's.**

**Chapter 1: What To Write -- Yugi**

I am sitting at my desk in front of my computer, seconds away from banging my head on the hardwood in front of me. My editor has called five times in two hours, wanting to know what the topic of my next book is. And each time he calls, I have to remind him that it's a process, a process that isn't going to speed up even if he calls a hundred more times. I have writer's block written all over my face. It's in my body, in my voice. I'm tired. Last night I typed forty pages of some bullshit story about a boy wiht no parents and a dead grandmother, only slightly reminiscent of my own life, but enough to make me angry at myself for feeling so damn moody. The line blinks at me, jeering almost. I scowl at it, curse, and stand up. I've been home all day. I need to get out. Now. Maybe call Joey and the gang, go to lunch, get in my car and drive off a cliff before my editor can-

RRRRRRING!

"Oh that is it!" I pick up the phone. "WHAT?"

"Hey man, chill out. It's just Joey." Thank God.

"Joey! Jesus, I'm sorry. I thought you were my editor. He's called like five times this morning."

"Yeah? Well how's about we get you outta there and go get some lunch?"

"Sounds great, just what I was thinking actually." _That and suicide._ "How about you meet me outside the game shop?"

"Yeah, just like old times."

"Okay, I'll see you soon." I hang up and the phone begins to ring again. This time, I don't care who it was. I pull the cord out of the wall and pull on a jacket. Downstairs Laurie, my new employee, is ringing up a couple who's just bought a chess set.

"Have a good day," she says. "Oh, hello Mr. Mutou."

"I told you, call me Yugi."

"Yes Mr. Mutou- I mean Yugi." She blushes and smiles.

"I'm having lunch with some friends. Why don't you close up early and head home, alright?"

"Are you sure? I mean there's only an hour left before-"

"Laurie. Just go home." I turn around as the bell rings and the door opens.

"Yugi!" Joey walks in, hands in his pockets, tie loose around his neck.

"Hey Joe. Nice tie."

"My sister bought it for me for Valentine's Day. I told her it was inappropriate to get your brother something' like a gift or whatever on a day for love birds, but she's just lonely. Needs a boyfriend. A boyfriend who isn't Tristan." He looked serious and then smiled. "Anyway, Kaiba's got me doin' all kinds of stuff at his new Duelin' Academy. Wants you to come and teach, too. I told him you were too busy writin' best sellers."

"Joey, I wrote one best seller."

"Yeah, well, I'm sure you'll write another."

"Yeah, maybe."

I had started writing six years ago, when Yami and I decided to call it quits. He'd gone to school and studied Egyptology, then landed a job at the museum in Cairo. I'd just gotten started on the publishing process and my grandpa was sick. I couldn't leave. So we went our separate ways. I think we both thought that since fate had led us to one another once before, it had to happen again. But destiny had other plans. Yami met someone else and I got published. Over the years, we've grown apart. Something I thought could never happen. And though we agreed to remain "just friend" it's something my heart truly and completely denies, but knows is necessary.

My first book was a small sci-fi novel, not really anything anyone noticed, but it meant a lot to me. It got good reviews and that made me happy. My second book did better and was a sequel to my first. But it was my third book that became a bestseller. It was about a boy who solves a puzzle that unlocks the spirit of a young Celtic king who needs the boy's help to lock away the magic of the dark son of Merlin. Yeah, I know. In the end, the boy has to sacrifice the soul of the king in order to seal the wizard away. It included a close, romantic relationship between the boy and the king, but my editor thought it was...inappropriate. Yami read it and suggested I let the reader interpret the relationship for themselves. So I rewote the dynamic (which took three months) and the book was published.

It quickly became a hit and my editor thought he was my new best friend. I made money and I was happy. Sort of. Yami enjoyed the story and Tea read it and cried. A lot. Joey told me I was a good man and even Kaiba enjoyed it. But now I have a problem...everyone expects another great book and I'm contemplating suicide. What the hell and I going to write about now?

"Anyway, I told this little snot that if he could beat me in a duel, I'd give him an A. But I guess that's against the rules. Or so Kaiba said. But then he said he wanted to see me get my ass whooped by a ten year old, and I said that that wasn't gonna happen. So I dueled this kid and I beat him fair and square. Showed Kaiba, huh?"

"What? Oh yeah."

"Yug, are you even with me right now?"

"I'm sorry Joey. I'm thinking about my next book. Or rather, the lack of my next book."

"Still no idea?"

"I know there's something out there. I just…need some inspiration."

"You want inspiration? Inspiration's walkin' to the restaurant. Hey Tea! Yugi here needs inspiration." She sighs.

"Sorry, fresh out. I gave it all to my students. They're making models of historical events. Apparently no one knows anything about World War Two."

"They're fifth graders."

"Well, we spent a whole month on it."

"No, I don't want a damn premium package, I just want to talk to someone about my insurance. Look, my kitchen was set on fire by my plumber. I'm assuming I'm covered. Yeah, well, I better be. Thank you. Jesus Christ. Hey guys," Tristan says, smiling.

"Your plumber set your kitchen on fire?"

"Yeah. Well, he's my cousin. And I guess he thinks he can do whatever he wants to in my house. So he thought, hey I'll make myself some lunch. Then he set the whole damn room on fire. My mother better be happy she made me help him find a job because he's been nothing but a pain in my ass for two weeks now." We laugh as we walk into the restaurant, a place we'd started going in college. It's overrun with college students, but none of us seem to notice. It's just nice to go back to something familiar.

I look at his friends. The years since high school graduation have taken them far. Tea is an elementary school teacher and runs a dance studio on the weekends. Tristan is finishing law school and working for a firm downtown. And Joey's teaching at Kaiba's Dueling Academy. Yami's away in Egypt, learning more about his past and uncovering the secrets of Pharaohs and gods. And me? I'm suffering from writers block and an oncoming migraine, but I'm happy. For now. Suddenly though, I know.

"I've got it!" I yell, interrupting Joey's story about the kid he'd dueled. "I know what I'm writing about!"

"About time," Tristan said, looking over the menu.

"What will you write about."

"Yami. Or Atem, rather. Maybe give him a different name, but I'll write about the Pharaoh and the battle with Zorc. I'm sure things'll get changed along the way- they always do. But I know where I'll start." I pause. "But I don't know anything about Egypt. Just what we learned back then." Joey smiles.

"I know someone who does."


	2. The Specialist

**A/N: **Aww look. Fluff. Don't you love it?

**Diclaimer: I own nothing but my OC's and plot line.**

**Chapter 2: The Specialist -- Yami**

"The lineage of the Pharaoh was matrilineal, meaning the king had to marry a woman within his own family to maintain power. Many times this was a sister or cousin. It wasn't thought of as incest in those times, merely a way to continue the bloodline of the Pharaoh. The women were actually very important figures and ruled alongside their husbands. They also played important religious roles." I am leading a group of people around the museum in Cairo. When I awoke this morning, the museum had called me three times asking me to come in. I finally answer them, even though it is my day off from excavating, and come in to give tours. I actually enjoy it. But today I'm a little weary.

"So they would marry their own sisters?" a German woman asks.

"Yes." I turn to the newest exhibit. The one I am most proud of. "Now here you'll find the Tomb of the Nameless Pharaoh, though he is nameless no more. His name was Atem and he was said to have vanquished a dark evil in his land by sacrificing his own soul and rescuing his people."

"Isn't your name Atem?" a young girl asks.

"Yes it is."

"Were you named after him?"

"I was," I lie.

- - - - - - - - - - -

It's late when my phone rings. I'm tired-- I've given eight two hour tours today and just want to sleep. But I never get calls so I push myself out of the chair and answer the call. "Hello?"

"Yami?" I know that voice.

"_Aibou_." Yugi laughs.

"Yeah, it's me. How are you?"

"Well I'm fine. A bit tired, it's been a long day. And yourself?"

"Same, same. I've been considering getting a restraining order on my editor. Or just changing my number and 'accidentally' forgetting to tell him." He chuckled. "But I didn't call about him. I called about something else."

"What is it?"

"My editor wants another book. I need another book. If I don't start writing soon I'll go crazy and fire Laurie, the new girl, and start working the game shop again. Not that I don't like that, I just…"

"I understand. Can I help in any way?"

"Actually, you can help in almost every way, my other self." I smile at the nickname. "I want to write my next book about you." Silence. "Yami?"

"Me?"

"No the other Pharaoh Atem. Yes you. Why? What's the matter?"

"Well, I just, I'm surprised is all. I thought you had little interest in Pharaohs and old kings these days."

"I want to write about you…I miss you," Yugi says quietly. I can feel his loneliness over the phone. It broke heart to say goodbye to Yugi all those years ago. It broke my heart again to tell my _aibou _that I'd fallen in love. When I thought my heart could break no more, that person hurt me as well. I'd wanted to fly to Yugi as soon as he could, but knew that my former lover would probably not welcome me as warmly as I dreamt he would.

"I miss you as well, young one." Yugi laughs.

"Look, think about it for a couple of days and I'll call you, okay? I really do miss you. It was nice to hear your voice."

"It was nice to hear from you too." We hang up. I hate these calls. The calls we make to one another to force friendship into our lives once more. But I know that when you make love to someone, you can never really be friends again. That the line is always and forever blurred. But I have to respect Yugi's wishes. Have to not think about the nights we've spent together. It's late when I look at the clock. I need to sleep.

But as I crawl into bed, all I can see is his face. Lying there on the pillow next to me, whispering pieces from his stories, whispering secrets and worries that he can't tell anyone else. Worries that his mother hates me. That his grandfather is dying. That I will leave him. Whispering little white lies to me. That he'll be fine. That we can still be friends. Like we were before. Could I fly to Domino City? I think I could. I can afford it. Surprise Yugi. He'd like that, I think.


	3. Burn the Couch

**A/N:** Like the change in POV? The first two were rough because I didn't want to re-write them. Because I'm lazy. Hey it's summer. Give me a break. Anyway, here's your third chapter. :)

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my plots and OC's.**

**Chapter 3: Burn the Couch -- Yugi**

I am feeling very very much alone as I sit on the couch wathing something on television mindlessly. I remember a game Yami and I used to play. Where we would mute tv shows and fill in what we think they should be saying. Felt like kids doing it, but it was fun. We usually got distracted before the end of an episode. What my mother would think if she knew how many times Yami and I made love on this couch. I smile to myself, remembering some of those nights. How many times we almost got caught. How many times he whispered I love you as I clung to the cushions. How he placed his mouth over mine to stop me from calling out to loudly.

I realize I am crying.

I turn off the tv. It's only on to distract me from the novel I know nothing about. It's only on to make me forget Yami when, in fact, all it does is make me remember him more. I stand and try to forget the feelings. Try to get rid of the memory of the couch. But it's in the house. I'll have to burn it to get rid of anything. Even then, I still have my mattress. And the kitchen table. And the shower. And the kitchen floor. And the bathroom floor. And the-

Well. Fuck that.

My house is too full of the memories of him. I think that I'll move. What's the farthest place away from Egypt. I pull out a map. Egypt is fairly central. I decide I'll move to Alaska. It's cold there. You can't live there, can you? I'm talking to you know. In my head. I used to do it all the time, remember? You lived there. For so long, you lived there. Even then, you knew you loved me. God, I think I'm losing it.

I have brought my laptop downstairs and begin typing something. It's really nonsense. I don't have much in my head. I'm hungry. There's curry in the fridge. I pull it out. The door bell rings. It's Joey.

"Hey."

"This a bad time?"

No, I was just wasting my life away in front of the tv thinking about how many times Yami fucked me on my mother's favorite sofa. "No. Not really."

"I got a surprise for you."

I hate suprises. "I love surprises." He smiles. There's something there, something I'm not seeing. What is he hiding? He keeps glancing around the corner. "What is it?" He shrugs. I don't have time for his games.

"Well, it was kinda a surprise for me, too, you know? I mean, I didn't know it was going to happen and-"

"Joey."

"Yeah?"

"What the hell is it?"

And there he is. He is tired and worn looking. The sun has, somehow, made him browner. He looks...eroded. Like the wind of the desert has scrubbed him down to his pure self.

"_Aibou_."

"Yami."

I don't know when Joey leaves. We just stand there. It feels right, just standing there and waiting. A bird whistles. The trees are still. I am caught between making a run down the street (though Joey has his car and Yami is a fast son of a bitch) and going inside and locking myself away from it all until my food runs out. Maybe then I'll stick my hand down the garbage disposal.

But Joey does leave. Leaves us to our own devices. Leaves us to...us.

"May I...come in?"

"What?"

"Inside?"

"Oh! Oh yeah. Yeah, of course." I sound like an idiot. I am an idiot. "Inside." I open the door and let him in. He brushes past me as he enters and my entire body fizzes with liquid emotion. Reaches the very ends of my veins and rushes to my head. I almost fall over. You smell the same. Sand and water and dry air. I love it. I crave it. I strive to find this smell. But I can't. It is uniquely you. And I nearly begin to cry again when I realize this, all of this, you and me and the couch being so close, this is all temporary. The couch is happy. It thinks we'll be back. I want us to be back. I have the image clearly in my mind. Me grabbing your bag and throwing it aside. Pulling our clothes off. The couch. Us. There. No need to cover up the noises. My heart races. I begin to sweat. I pour you something to drink. Heat up the curry. And you stop me. Pull me to you.

"I've missed you, _hikari_."

"I've missed you, too." We are the same height now. My voice a few octaves lower. Your's so much deeper. Me being your mirror in nearly every way. I nearly break down right there in front of you. Grab you and pull you to the floor. Instead I pull myself away. It takes every bit of strength I have. But I do it.

"How long will you be here?"

"Two weeks."

For two weeks, I will have to be stronger than I have ever been. I will have to be stronger than you and the way you make me feel. I will have to burn that goddamn couch.


	4. Time

**A/N: **That was a good one. I liked that last chapter. Hope you did, too. More good stuff to come! As you can see from the chapter Yugi has issues. And what's all this stuff about his mother? Stay tuned!

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my plots and OC's.**

**Chapter 4: Time -- Yami**

You are the same height as me. I can't get over it as I watch you move around the kitchen. You say little things, like you're trying to mask something larger. I still know you. I can still feel you. My arival has made you frustrated and flustered. I feel bad. But I know you like me being here. The way you keep glancing at me. You look tired. Beaten down. You talk about your editor. How annoying he is. I met him once. Short man, no neck. He bothers you. He wants you to be famous and bring in money. You want to write. I want to go down on you in the kitchen.

I called Joey and told him where I was. He was shocked, but came to pick me up at the airport. Dramatically brought me to you. Left when he saw where this might be going. You're breaking my heart, pouring me lemonade and trying to act like this kind of thing happens all the time. Like you're not really impressed or shocked that I am sitting across from you. You ask very carefully about Adam. The man who I loved for some time in Egypt. The man who broke my heart. The man who broke your heart as well, I've come to realize.

"Adam went back to England last year. Not a desert man." You laugh.

"Neither am I."

"No. You're not. But you tolerate it well."

"Well enough I suppose."

"What is your book about?"

"You, hopefully."

"I think I might be able to help." You laugh.

You tell me about your book. How much you want to change. How much you want to keep the same. You're not sure where it will go. What you want. I can see you're conflicted. We're beginning to relax. To see that this can be natural. This friendship thing. If only I could stop imagining us making love on the kitchen floor. Then it would all be normal.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

You suggested we go out. Surprise everyone before Joey can spill the beans. Strangely, it is Kaiba who knows first. At work, Joey told him everything. Figured he wouldn't care. Very wrong. Kaiba cares a lot and offers to take everyone out to dinner. Wants to see the old Pharaoh, he says. Maybe a harmless duel? You tell him maybe. He asks if you're my spokesman. You tell him to go to hell and we'll be read in ten minutes.

"Not even one duel?"

"I don't care what you do. I just don't want to deal with Kaiba's ego any more than I have to tonight. Him losing would only mean trouble."

"Well, at least I know you think I can win."

"I've always known that," you say quietly, placing dishes in the dishwasher and putting things away. You lead me upstairs. Show me my room. It has changed a lot. I remember your mother lived here for a while. I try not to think about her. My last memories of her are rather...negative. Joey lived here you tell me, after his girlfriend dumped him and stole his house keys. Took him three weeks to get them back. Your father stayed here for some time. It's become the home to transients, I can see. You help me get set up. We are very much aware of the bed. That we could do something before Kaiba gets here. I almost reach out and touch your face, but a horn blares from outside. You quickly rush down the stairs, yelling for me to hurry up. I have another regret now.

Kaiba is in the car. He is pleased. Like a cat that's been fed sweet milk, he is stretchedout and content looking. He's older now. Mature. Sophisticated.

Still an asshole.

"Evening, pharaoh."

"Kaiba."

"What was the name? Atem?"

"Yes."

"How's that working out for you?"

"Fine." Yes. Still an asshole.

"That's enough Kaiba," you say softly as he continues to pester me. He looks away and out the window. We're going to some fancy restaurant. I can sense your frustrations. Read it like the book you are. Your eyebrows are narrowed, you're chewing on your bottom lip. I want to pull you to me and hold you. Kiss you. But I won't. Don't because Kaiba's here and we're at the restaurant. Tea, Joey, and Tristan are waiting outside. When I come into view, Tea bursts into tears.

"Naturally," says Kaiba. For once he's right. But I'm happy to see her. And the rest of them.

"I kept all your letters," she says through her sobs.

I enjoy the dinner. You sit next to me, your and resting on the chair. I touch it carefully. You pretend nothing has happened. But you touch back. A small smile passes over you before you go back to paying attention to Kaiba's debate with Joey on some kind of new dueling arena they're building. I don't really care. You told me once that you don't duel much anymore. That part of your life is over. I agree. But the desire to give Kaiba a good thrashing is strong. I suppose I'll have to wait. I suddenly realize you have let go of my hand. That your own is now resting on my knee. You give me a quick glance and let go. I don't really know what you mean by this at all. Not at all. I want you to tell me, but I know you won't.

We used to be partners, you and I. Connected in every way. Even after the puzzle was gone, we could still feel each other without touching. Hear without listening. Speak without making a sound. Now I crave your skin. Because it's the only way to make contact with you. Something has happened that I don't understand. Something they aren't telling me. What happened to you? I am afraid for you, as we sent here and you ignore my probing mind. Not that you can feel it, though I am begging you to look my way with my thoughts. You laugh and go along with what's going on. But you're not actually here. You're not actually with anyone at all. Or me. I don't even think you're with yourself. Like you left him at home and this other you, this person with such great capacity for false laughs that ring true, is just here until you get home and can crawl back into your true self and do whatever it is you do. I wish I knew.

"Yami? Yami!"

"What? I'm sorry, I-"

"The question was, how popular is duel monsters in Egypt," you whisper to me quietly. The real you is there for a moment, poking my leg playfully. I smile.

"It actually just took off."

"See?" Kaiba says. "That's my point! Now if I could just..." His words fade out.

"_Aibou_? Are you alright?" Partner.

"Yes, _mou hitori no boku._ I'm fine." The only nickname sounds so natural coming from you. We're very close now. It's all I can do not to kiss you. Again, I don't. This isn't the time.

I wonder if there will ever be a time.


	5. Craving Contact

**A/N:** After this chapter we will dive into the past a bit. The timeline makes sense in my head, but might confuse you. I don't know. You're all lovely awesome people so I'm not worried about you. Digital cake for all the reviewers. Also: LEMON.

Also, a little sidenote: When Yami is narrating, he's doing it in the second person. When Yugi is narrating, it's in first. X3

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my plots and OC's.**

**Chapter 5: Craving Contact -- Yugi**

Dinner is a slow and torturous process for me. Yami and I touch a few times, but I have to pull away from him. I can't do this. Not at dinner. My mind and my heart are, for once, yelling the same thing. Only two different ways.

**My mind:** Drag him to the bathroom and make him bang you in the stall!

**My heart:** Now really, mind, what would that accomplish?

**Mind: **Carnal satisfaction?

**Heart: **At this point sex can only lead to pain.

**Mind:** Only if they do it the right way, eh Yugi?

**Heart:** Go on Yugi. You can hold his hand. It's fine.

**Mind:** This is bullshit. When do we get to the sex part?

**Heart:** Can we just agree that we both want Yugi and Yami to be together once more?

**Mind:** Yeah, I guess so.

**Me:** Hey guys?

**Mind/Heart:** Yes?

**Me:** Shut the hell up.

I realize then that I am slowly losing my mind. This entire thing is getting to me. Should have majored in business. Should have just taken over the game shop. Should never have thought I could write or create anything. Should never have told Yami how much I needed him. Loved him. Would never forget him. They're talking about duel monsters. I can see Yami's interest. But it is waning. He keeps looking at me. I wish he'd stop.

When dinner is over I nearly bolt out of my seat. Kaiba offers to drive us home and even though I'd love to walk, I'm tired. I can see Yami is tired. So we let him give us a lift.

"I expect that duel sometime soon, Pharaoh."

"Perhaps, Kaiba. Perhaps." He shuts the door before Kaiba can say anything more. The black limo drives off and we're left in front of the game shop. The moon is gone.

"New moon," Yami says.

"My favorite kind."

"I remember that."

"I know you do." I turn to him and smile. He's still looking at the sky, as though he's expecting something to fall out of it. I move toward the front door. I'm tired, need to fall into bed and not wake up until Yami is gone. These two weeks will take everything I've got. I need to sleep. "I'm going in." He turns. "You don't have to come in. You can stay outside if you want."

"Alone? No, I'll join you inside." Again, we brush past one another. The couch is staring at me.

**Couch:** Yeah? Yeah? Come on!

I think I might be sick. "I'm going to bed, okay?" He nods. Follows me up the stairs. I'm feeling a little dizzy. My room is open and he follows me in.

"Looks the same."

"There wasn't much to change."

"Yugi. Are you alright?" The rare times when he says my name send shivers down my back. The way he says it. The way his need for me drips through his voice. Makes me shiver.

"I'm tired is all."

"I think there's more."

"Well, I haven't seen you for three years. And the last time I did, we separated on very awkward terms around very awkward situations. I'm still surprised that you're here and I've been tired for three weeks, so if it's not too much to ask, I'd like you to stop worrying about me, okay?"

"I've worried about you for so long. It's hard to do much else."

"Well, learn to do something else because I don't need you breathing down my neck for two weeks."

"Maybe I should just go then."

"No!" The sound of my own voice scares me. He looks taken aback. "Please. Don't leave me." I'm not sure why, but I rush to him and bury my head in his jacket. He holds me close.

"Oh _aibou._ I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here." Tears are falling. For reasons I'm not sure of. If the couch could move, I swear it'd be up here, watching us. Ready to catch us. But we won't make love. We won't. We won't. We won't. We won't. We won't. We are. Aren't we? He begins to kiss me, slow and warm and soft and just the way I remember. I no longer look up to him to do this. I am level with his face and begin to pull his shirt off. He stops me.

"Slowly, _aibou_. We musn't move too quickly." I nod. He's always known the perfect way to make love to me. Not too slow. Not too fast. Always perfect. I don't really notice what's even going on. My clothes are gone. His are gone. We have moved to the bed. The couch breathes a sigh of disappointment. The bed has won. But suddenly we aren't moving slow anymore. I'm not sure why. He's moving quickly and roughly down my body and back to my mouth. Biting my collar bone and my shoulders and nipping my neck. We used to have to shush ourselves. Stop me from yelling out. Stop Yami from saying too much too quickly and too loudly. As he kisses me his hand is struggling with the drawer on my bed side table. Scrambling out of habit for the lubricant. I laugh. Laugh because it's still there. He looks at me.

"Does this stuff go bad?"

"Hell if I know." A shrug. He uses it. I moan as his fingers touch me. As he slips them inside me. There isn't much else that gets me. I am grabbing at the sheets. Need him there, right now. Inside me. I look at him. "What are you waiting for?" He smiles and slowly pushes himself into me.

I won't lie. I have never slept with a single person but Yami. For three years, I haven't had sex. And that thought has never bothered me. Before now. Because as he slips inside, I can feel just how tight I am. Just how much this is going to hurt. But I like it. The pain will go away and it quickly does. He begins to move faster, in and out, clutching the sheets, his eyes half closed in sheer ecstacy. I've always loved seeing him like that.

"Yugi," he says roughly, placing his lips against mine and kissing me hard. I wrap my arms and legs around him, let him into me in every way. My breath is coming is shallow gasps. He continues to whisper my name into my mouther. Whispers sweet things against my skin. I can feel the fire burning in my stomach. I'm so very close, but I want this to last. Last for a very long, long time. But Yami won't let me. "Go on," he says into my ears, his own breath deep and broken. "Go on, do it. I'll do it with you. At the same time." He's close. I can hear it in his voice. See it in his eyes that are now closed, his teeth that are grinding against one another. I nod. And we come together. I cry out his name. And, for a moment, I can almost hear that voice of his in my head. For a moment. But it's gone. He pulls out, but stays above me. His arms are shaking. I unwrap myself from around him. Pull him down. He falls onto me. Sweat is covering us. But nothing comes between the contact we are making. Nothing.

"Yami?"

"Yes, _hikari_?"

"I need to tell you something. And I don't need you to respond. I don't need you to do anything. Really. But I have to say it."

"What is it, little one?"

"I love you."


	6. Broken

**A/N:** Lemon before...did you like it? Also, sorry to interrupt Yugi's little confession, but it's time to play::::: BLAST FROM THE PAST!!!! We're going back six years ago when Yami left Yugi. :( Lemon-ish.

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my plots and my OC's.**

**Chapter 6: Broken -- Yami**

_Six Years Ago_

I am leaving you. And I don't like it. You know now, you found the letter, found my response. Found my plane tickets. I told you the interview went well. That there was a good chance I would leave. I just haven't told you I would yet. You're angry. And I understand. I'm not leaving for another month, and I was going to tell you tonight. Or tomorrow. Or the next night. But never would I ever leave you with no explanation. You deserve so much more.

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

"Yes, _aibou_, I was."

"Don't call me that right now," you snap. You're paying bills. Folding envelopes and licking them shut. Stamping them. You look at me. "Look, I know you want to go. I want you to go. I just...would have appreciated a little more of a heads up is all." You turn back to the letters. It seems so unnatural, all of this. You were once such a child. Now, you are an adult. You're grandfather is sick and you've taken over the business. You're finishing your first book. You're working in the game shop. You're tired and I can see it. We haven't made love in weeks. We've been busy. I walk over to you, rub your shoulders.

"_Hikari_-"

"Stop it. I'm not in the mood."

"Yes you are. You always are."

"No, Yami, I'm not." But you're slowing down. Not filling out envelops with rapid precision anymore. You forget to stamp one.

"You missed one."

"Stop it," you say as you fix it.

"Stop what?"

"You know what." But then we are gone. You turn around. You're still shorter than me. A little taller, but still shorter. I pull you to me and kiss you. The floor becomes are place. Your granfather is asleep. Will be till tomorrow. You hiss and try to muffle your moans. I push into you hard and rough. A tear falls down your cheek. I lick it away. Lick and lick at your face and neck and chest. Bite and kiss your collar bone. I find the weak spot in your neck and attack it. You shiver and moan my name. I come first, then pull myself down to catch you as you do the same. I taste and swallow you. You're shaking and shivering. Still clothed. You lean against the cabinet. I kiss you, let you taste yourself. You fall into my lap and I stroke your forehead.

"What will I do without you?"

"Live. You'll live on. You'll be fine." You shake your head.

"I love you too much."

"I know. Perhaps-"

"No. That won't work."

"People do it all the time."

"We're not people. We're us. And I won't be able to do this long distance bullshit with you like some army girlfriend. I'm not that way." You're angry now. Fixing your pants and standing. Going back to the bills. I do the same, but now I'm angry.

"Then what do you expect? Three years of us and we're just going to..to..to end it? Just like that?"

"What do you _want_ from me Yami? Want me to come to Egypt with you? Want me to leave all this behind? Want me to leave my grandfather here to die alone? No! You go to Egypt. You go and you live your life. I will always be here for you when you return. Always." You're shaking. Shaking with fury and rage and sorrow. You're crying. "I won't leave this all behind. I can't. I have a duty here and I won't leave it because you're moving on. Life does that, Yami. People come and go and we have to accept that."

"We're not people, remember?"

"Yes, I know. We're us."

- - - - - - - - - - - -

You want to take me to the airport alone. Joey and Tea and Tristan say their goodbyes, but you want this time with me you say. The past month has been a whirlwind. We've made love nearly every night, even though we both know that's a bad idea. You drive me there in silence, but you look as though this is normal. I feel pale. And sick. You look the same. We sit in the car because we're early. You lean over and rest in my lap. Whisper to mean like you used to. Whisper to me about whatever is on your mind. Like this is nothing.

"I love you," you say quietly.

"I love you as well."

"But I'll be fine."

"You will." You're lying to me. I can sense it. You strighten up and kiss me. We do that for some time. Fighting with one another always makes us hungry for contact. It feels like hours, but it's only minutes. We crawl into the back. I need you one last time. You understand. We make love and you cry out. This is the last time I'll hear you for some time. I can feel loneliness creeping up and over me like a poison. It is flooding my veins. Your cheeks are flushed and your eyes are closed as I make love to you. It is fairly silent considering the past month we've spent. This time is quiet. We are truly one. You are holding me close. You whisper to me. You love me you love me I love you I love you. God how I love you.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

In the airport, we ignore everyone. You kiss me with all you have left and I give you my all. Then we stop. You rest your forehead against me chest. "Please, don't forget me."

"I won't. Ever, _aibou_."

"_Mou hitori no boku..._" The nickname sounds so beautiful coming from you. "I love you. I always will."

"As will I little one."

"Go." You smile. "Go on! You'll miss your flight." I lift my bag onto my shoulders.

"Yugi, I-"

"Please. Go before you change your mind. Go before you throw it all away. You deserve this. You need this. You want it and you know you do." I nod. "Then go." You kiss me one last time and push me toward my gate.

"Goodbye," I say quietly. But I know you can hear. You nod. Your hands are in your pockets. I know you're crying. I'm surprised to find I am as well. I feel so very broken.

Broken. Very very broken.


	7. I'm Fine

**A/N: **I just want to apologize to tinkletimekelly. I know there have been some OC's and there will be a couple more. But you were lovely enough to give the story another chance and I appreciate that. Please hang in there- the story's not about them. It's about Yugi and Yami. :) Also, I read my own stuff and saw a lot of errors. I'll try to get those fixed this week.

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my plots and OC's (unfortunately for tinkletimekelly).**

**Chapter 7: I'm Fine -- Yugi**

_Six Years Ago _

When he leaves me, leaves me there in the airport, I can't go. I wait until I no longer see him. Then I go into the bathroom and cry. I know people can hear me. A man asks if I'm alright. I whisper I'm fine over and over again. Until I believe it myself. Until I know that, when I walk out that bathroom door, I'll be fine enough to lie about how fine I'm really not. I can actually hear the sound of my own heart breaking and it's a pain like I've never felt. I rush out of that bathroom. God, the car is still there. It still feels like we made love in it. I may need to drive it off a cliff. I may need to stay in the car while I do so.

I drive home instead.

Throwing myself into my work, I ignore most of his letters for a good month and a half. Ignore calls from him. I can't talk to him right now. Can't look at his handwriting. I finish the book in a whirlwind, send it off, have it edited. It is published another mother later. I decide that will be my first contact with him. The book. I write a letter. A long letter. It doesn't explain why I haven't called or written or even thought about Yami, even though that last part is just a lie I tell myself to feel better. It just talks about grandpa and the book and how I've got a sequel going in my head. How I've been so busy and the shop is doing really well. I don't talk about how I don't sleep at night. How I have to pretend he's there with me. How I have to fight the urges to call him in the middle of the night. It doesn't say that my heart is still lying in the middle of the kitchen floor. That it broke the day I found his letter to the museum in Cairo.

He deserves this. This job he's landed. Deserves it more than anyone I know. He's worked so hard and now he's being rewarded for it. After the book, we begin to communicate more frequently. Letters and pictures and short stories. But I don't call him. I can't call him. I can't bring myself to hear his voice. It would be too much for me to take, I think. I start talking to him when I know he's not there.

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

"I am _aibou_. But I miss you." These are things I imagine he says.

One day I read a letter from him and there are photos inside of it. I tack these onto my wall and stare at them. Only one has Yami in it. He's not even looking at the camera, just staring off at this pyramid. His arms are at his side, almost in defeat. Like he waited his whole life to see this pyramid and, in the end, it beat him. I laugh. Laugh and laugh for what seems like hours. I write him a letter and tell him I love the pictures. To send more. He does. Soon, I have an entire corner filled with them. Then they cover the wall. Spill over onto another. Cover my mirror. No one is sure what the think of them, so I don't mention them. Don't mention that these pictures are healing the heart no one can see is broken. That they've been bealing it for months.

After a year, I haven't spoken to him. He stopped calling, content with letters and photographs. I need to hear him though. My head needs this. My heart needs it. Even though it might break it again, it's a risk I'm willing to take. So I do. I pick up the phone and punch in my calling card number. Dial the number he gave me in one of his letters. The phone rings. And rings. And rings.

"Hello?" I can't speak. "Hello? Is anyone there? Hmph."

"Wait!" I yell into the phone.

"Yugi?" he asks, incredulously.

"Yeah," I say weakly. "How are you?"

"I'm, well, I'm...I'm fine. Yugi. I'm fine. How are you?"

"The same. I'm just, you know, working on my next book."

"That's excellent!" he says happily. I can tell he likes talking to me. I ask him about work. About the museum and the digs. He say they're working on a lot of big projects right now and he hopes that he'll get to take some good pictures of them for me. I agree. God, his voice is so happy. I try to sound the same.

"Listen, Yugi, there's something I need to tell you. I-" I hear a voice in the background. A man's voice. My heart sinks.

"Is that...someone else?" He doesn't speak. "Yami? It's okay. You can tell me."

"Yes, Yugi. It is." I don't ask his name. Don't care really. "Yugi, I-"

"Hey, it's not a big deal! I mean, we're friends, remember? Just friends."

"Just friends. Yes. I know. But you-"

"I'm fine. Really." And I actually believe it. I'm fine with him finding someone else. I did tell him we weren't going to do that long distance thing. He deserves this. We change the subject. Avoiding the other man at all costs. I don't really care what his name is truthfully. I don't. He feels transient in my mind. Like he'll fade away eventually.

Another hour goes by and I realize I needed this. I tell him that.

"Are you alright?" he asks, worried. I laugh.

"I'm fine, yeah. Yeah, actually. I'm really fine." And I know that I am.


	8. Don't Look Back

**A/N:** Now we're going back to three years ago, which would be three years after Yami left. So we're in the middle now! Some serious shit is going down. Also, this is a longer chapter because I want what happens to be in Yami's POV. The aftermath will be in Yugi's. Also, lemon. Ish. God, I've got too many in this story...

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my plots and OC's.**

**Chapter 8: Don't Look Back -- Yami**

_Three Years Ago_

It has been three years since I left you in the airport. I've talked to you several times, but I'm starting to miss the way you look at me. The way your eyes dart over to me and smile without actually moving your lips. The next time I speak to you, it is three in the morning here. I am sleeping. Adam isn't here. He's visiting his family in England. And I don't really miss him. I don't know who is calling, but I'm angry. Angry because I have work. Angry because I'm tired. Angry because I just want to sleep. "What?" I say harshly into the phone, expecting it to be one of my students.

"Did I wake you?" you ask in a voice that is riddled with exhaustion and distress.

"Yugi! What's the matter?"

"He's dying Yami. He's dying." He takes in a ragged breath.

"Who is?"

"Grandpa. God, he's so sick. I don't know what do with myself. My mother is here and she's driving me insane and my father won't stop calling and I've got to finish this book and he's so sick and I haven't left the hospital for days and-"

"What can I do?"

"He wants to see you." He does. Not you.

"He does?"

"No Yami, I'm just calling because I know it's three AM there and I want to fuck around! God dammit! Don't do this shit, okay?"

"Yugi, calm down."

"Don't fucking tell me that, alright? Jesus. I just want this all to be over."

"When should I come?"

"What?" You sound surprised.

"He wants to see me. When should I be there?"

"You-you mean you're _actually_ going to come and see him?"

"Yes. I am. Don't you want me to?"

"God yes! Yes I do! I-I want that more than anything. I really do." So you do want to see me. I can hear your smile.

"I'll get on the first flight I can find, alright?"

"Yes! He'll be so happy. He really will."

I buy my ticket the next morning and fly out that afternoon. It is late where you are, nearly eleven at night. But you're there, waiting for me. Hands in your pockets, just like the day I left. You don't see me at first. You're not really looking. Paying attention to other things, thinking about other things. There's a lot on your mind I suppose. I admire you from a distance. You've grown taller, but you're still the same. Older looking, yes. You're 23 now. Growing up and I'm not there. I am reminded of our last meeting. How you pushed me to the gate. Told me to go because I deserved it. What did you deserve? Loneliness? No. I can see it written all over you. You have you're friends, but the past three years has worn you down. You look so tired. I feel ashamed for wanting to sleep. My exhaustion is nothing compared to how you look.

"Who're you waiting for?" I ask. I've spooked you. You turn around, startled. That smile. Without warning you throw yourself at me. Still shorter, but not by much. I'm a little caught offguard by your touch. It sends me reeling for a moment, but I come back down quickly. "Hello little one."

"Hey." You look at me finally. "I think you're tanner." I laugh. "Well, you are. Tanner than me."

"How are you?" I ask sincerely.

"I feel like shit." Then you laugh. "It'll be nice to have you around. It's just been me and my mother since grandpa went to the hospital a couple months ago. She's driving me insance. 'Why don't you get a girlfriend?' 'I want grandkids you know.' 'Why don't you get a real job?' The last one is easy to ignore. I haven't told her that the only person I've ever slept with is a guy." I laugh, but you're not. "She's....not exactly the most open minded person." You quickly glance at me.

"In other words..."

"My mother like babies and happy couples. Who are married. And have distinct sexual organs." We are next to your old car. It's the same one as ever- old Honda Civic. This is the last place we made love. I think you're just as aware of that as I am. "So."

"Yes, Adam's mother is the same way."

"Who's Adam?" I forgot. I've never told you his name. "Oh yeah. Sorry."

"Not you're fault."

"Where's he?"

"I wouldn't have brought him."

"That's not the question."

"He's in England visiting his parents." We don't walk about him anymore. I know that's the last thing you want to hear.

"Mind if we go to the hospital tomorrow?"

"Don't mind at all."

"How long are you here?"

"A little over a week."

"He'll be dead in a couple days," you say. I am shocked by your bluntness.

"Yugi."

"It's the truth. Doctors say he won't last longer. You'll be here for the funeral. That's good. I've been trying to get my mother to cremate him all week. I want his ashes spread in Egypt." You quickly glance at me. We are stopped at a traffic light. "Would you...I mean, if I can convince her..."

"I'd love to."

"Thanks."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I sleep on the couch. I can't help but smile when I do. All the things you and I have done here. I want this couch. I want you. I dream about you, but in the dream, we're just in the kitchen and talking. Talking about...nothing really. I don't register or remember words. Just your face and the gestures you make. It's early when you're shaking me awake. You look concerned.

"Wake up!" you whisper. "Come on."

"Yugi, it's early."

"It's early, yes, but we're going to the hospital. Come on." I nod. In the guest bathroom I get dressed. That is what I am. A guest. I come into the kitchen and your mother is drinking coffee. She nods at me.

"Yami, right?"

"Yes ma'am."

"You know anything about this cremation thing? Do they do that in Egypt?"

"Sometimes, yes."

"Well, looks like Yugi won. Again. Always does," she says, lauging into her mug. She shakes her head. "You look a lot like him."

"So I've been told."

"You know why he doesn't date?"

"No ma'am." She shakes her head. These are the things she's worried about. On the surface.

"My father always said Yugi was quiet. And then he got all these friends. It was a good idea to leave him here, I think. Instead of taking him to Paris with me." I nod. I don't know what she does. Nor do I care. I don't like her very much. But she's feeling great pain. Her father is dying and her son is growing up without her realizing it. He is keeping secrets from her because she won't understand and it pains me that I know what she doesn't.

"You were his friend. Thank you," she says.

"I'm sorry?"

"My father wants to see you. He must have thought very highly of you. As did you. To fly all the way from Egypt to fulfill a dying man's wishes."

"He's a great man."

"He really is."

"Ready?" you ask, coming into the kitchen. You look over at your mother. "Everthing alright?"

"Everything is just fine. Happy you got your way?"

"I wish you wouldn't see it that way." You kiss her cheek and smile, rubbing her shoulder. "I love you. I'll see you later, alright?"

"Fine." She turns away and pours another cup of coffee.

"She's sad."

"Yeah. She hasn't been around much. She feels like she's missed it all."

"She has, I suppose." You nod.

"You don't like her, do you?"

"Whatever gave you that idea?"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Your grandfather is very sick. He's thin and he's dying. I can sense it in the room. We talk for some time about Egypt. He asks about everything, and I tell him as much as I can. Around noon, your mother comes in. She nods my way and stands behing you.

"Hey dad." Her father smiles at her.

"I'm very tired, I think," he says quietly. He shuts his eyes. We all are silent. A nurse comes in with food. Says he has to eat- doctor's orders.

"Grandpa," you say, shaking him gently. "Grandpa?" But he's gone. Your mother steps back, falls into a chair. The nurse purses her lips and rushes out with the food. The doctor comes in and checks his eyes. Shakes his head.

"I'm sorry." But you don't look sad. Relief is washing over you. I can see that. He's gone and he's no longer suffering. You smile and go over to your mother.

"It's okay mom. You don't have to be sad. He's not sick anymore." She falls against you. I feel like I'm intruding. I leave. As I step outside I hear people rushing down the hallway. Joey, Tea, and Tristan round the corner. They stop when they see me.

"Yami!" Joey yells, and rushes at me. I smile sadly. You come out with your mother. She's crying silently, and everyone knows. Tea bursts into tears. Joey sniffs and Tristan just starts to cry. No one really holds back. You can't face them right now. You're not crying. But I know you're slowly breaking inside.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

The next day, your mother leaves in the morning.

"If he's getting cremated, I get to pick out the urn." You let her. She wants to go alone. In your room, you're trying to find something appropriate to wear to his memorial service. You're standing there with your shirt off and I walk in.

"Hey," you say, unashamed.

"Nice pictures." Your room is covered with pictures from Egypt.

"I'm a little obsessed with them I guess you could say."

"You like them?" You laugh, a deep and echoing sound that I've never heard before. It's rich. Your voice is deeper. I like it.

"Yeah, I do." Your smile is so broad. The laughing fades away. It is slowly replaced by a sob. You grip the dresser and try not to look at me. I bring you to me anyway because I know that's what you need. You shake your head. "It's not fair. I never wanted this. Never wanted him to go this way." I nod. I'm trying to understand you, but it's hard. Everything is rushing out of you. I hold your face in my hands. You kiss me. Without thinking. It surprises me. I haven't kissed you in three years.

"I sorry," you say. "You've got what his name and-" But I don't let you go. I kiss you back.

You pull off my shirt. Need is pouring from your lips. Need for me. For this. I need you, too. Nothing can pull us apart. We stumble, trying to get back into the rhythm of our old lovemaking. There isn't much to stop me from taking you. You submit wholly and completely to me. No struggle for control. Like this is what you want. The small smile on your lips shows me this. So I don't really give you a warning when I push into you. Can't wait another moment. You swallow a scream that catches in your throat. Your breath is coming in small heaves as I push and push. Your nails scratch at my arms, but soon the gasps of pain give way to moans of ecstasy. Your cheeks are flushed red and your mouth is open. I kiss you and then push myself back up. I can't do much else but concentrate on this. I hit your sweet spot and you cry out. Grip my arms tighter. You ask for more and more and I'm trying to give you everything I have. You need this you tell me. I lean down to your ear and whisper i love you love you miss you need you. You nod and shush me. You know. And I know. You don't have to tell me you love for me to understand. I know that you have always loved me. Will always love me.

We are so close when a noise by the door stops me.

"Good God." Your eyes are wide in terror. We both turn to the door and see your mother, shaking and clutching her purse. She turns and runs.

"Mother!" you yell. I pull out from you and you grab your clothes. "Go!" you yell at me. "Get out of here!"

"Yugi-" I am dressed now. Never before have I dressed so quickly.

"Please," you plead. You kiss me quickly and shove me away from your room, down the stairs. "Please leave. I'll find you, I promise!" You shut the door. I am left outside as you attempt to calm your mother. Something I know will be difficult. All my things are in your house still. I'll have to come back. Luckily my cell phone is in my pocket and I call Joey. He comes and picks me up.

"What happened?"

"Something bad." He nods. "Yugi's mother..."

"Say no more man. I don't need to know." I nod. "She can be a pain. You can stay with me tonight." I nod and allow Joey to shephard me around for the day. He gives me dark clothes to wear for the memorial service. That day, I stand in the back, away from you and your mother. You catch my eye once and smile weakly. She never glances my way. After the service, I am sitting on the curb. You come over to me.

"How did it go?"

"Bad. But she'll live. Thought she was going to have a heart attack. She said it explains the lack of girlfriends." I laugh. You laugh. It seems so appropriate. "You can come back. She's going to be fine."

"I'm not sure if I-"

"I stopped caring what my mother though a long time ago. You're staying with me. Though we should keep the sex part to a minimum. Not that we should be doing this anyway..." I know you're thinking about him. The other man. So far away in England. But I won't let you.

"We won't have to do anything if you don't want to."

"That's the thing. I want to. But I know it's wrong. You've moved on."

"I love you."

"I know. I love you, too. But we can't anymore. God, I mean, you're not _here_ anymore. I can't love you if you're not here!"

"But you do."

"Yeah, I do. Seems I can't help myself. I don't know if I'll ever love anyone else."

"You should."

"I know."

- - - - - - - - - - - -

You take me to the airport. But we don't make love. We don't kiss. We just hold one another.

"I'll try," you assure me. You're going to try moving on.

"Behave yourself, _aibou_. Don't give your mother too much of a shock."

"Yeah." You shrug and put your hands in your pockets. The same as ever. This time, when I leave, I'm not sad. I'm assured. I have your grandfather's ashes and will scatter them throughout the Valley of the Kings. So that he may be among the ancients forever. You like that idea. You wave as I walk away and then turn. Don't look back. And neither do I.


	9. I've Always Meant It

**A/N:** We're on the last leg of our journey to the past, so please, keep your hands and legs in the fanfic at all times. Or just your eyes. I don't care. This one is shorter and we'll soon be returning to the present.

**Disclaimer: I own only my plots and OC's.**

**Chapter 9: -- Yugi**

_Three Years Ago_

When I shove him out that door, I'm not sure what to do next. My mother has just caught me having sex. With a man. I cringe when I remember her face. And I'm a little flustered because we didn't get to finish. But that's not the important thing. The arduous task of making my mother see me the same ever again is about to begin. And something in me doesn't actually care what she sees because, in the end, my life is my life.

She's sitting on her bed, in shock I suppose.

"Mom..."

"Your grandfather is dead. And you have the audacity to-to-" She shakes her head. "How long?"

"Don't pull this shit mother."

"Have you...always been...this way?"

"What way?"

"_Gay_," she hisses. I roll my eyes.

"I'm not gay."

"Well it sure seems like it."

"No mother, I mean, I'm not gay, I don't...I mean, what I'm trying to say is-"

"Do you like girls?"

"No, but-"

"Then you're gay."

"But I don't like boys either." God, I sound like a ninth grader.

"I don't understand, Yugi."

"I don't like anyone, mother. There's only one person out there meant for me, and it's him."

"Yami."

"Yeah. He's my-"

"Soul mate," she says quietly.

"Yes." She nods. Like she understands. And somehow, I know she does.

It hits me like a ton of bricks that the rest of my life will be spent pining for a man who may never be able to be with me again. It washes over me in that room as my mother sits across from me and finally understands that gay is just a word. That it's just a label that I have not given myself. But that I'm not interested in girls and babies and getting married. These are all just things and don't mean anything to me. It's him that means the world to me and it's hard when people look at us and label us as a gay couple. I want to jump up and scream that that's not how it is. We're not just two people you can label and sneer at. That he's not just my lover. That he is is my other half and we are not a couple but a single entity. That we are not gay but in love and very much one with each other. I look at my mother. She's smiling and wipes the tears from my face.

"You love him, don't you?"

"Yes," I croak. She nods. She doesn't like him, I know that. But she'll understand. She's not happy about it. She wants grandkids and I'm her only chance. I shrug. There isn't much I can do for her there. She tells me she needs some time alone and I nod.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I don't want to do anything else with him. I let him stay at the house and he and my mother tip-toe around one another for the rest of the week. I watch them silently. At one point they both reach for the sugar and spend a minute pushing it back and forth. I grab it and use it myself. At night, Yami and I lie next to one another. We don't make love. Sometimes he kisses me. I kiss back. Sometimes we almost go there, but we hold back. I wake up in the morning with him next to me and I have to remind myself that this is only temporary. That he will be leaving and going back to whatever that guy's name is. Andrew. Aden? I don't even care. When he does leave, we don't make love. We don't kiss. It is as it should be. But as soon as I turn away, I am left with that feeling in my heart. I imagine it like a tree: it has rings. Each time Yami comes and then leaves, he takes ring from my tree. I operate on less and less each time.

A few weeks after my grandpa dies, my mother goes back to Paris. She edits a magazine there. We say goodbye and she tells me to move on. That Yami won't leave Egypt for me. I tell her to mind her own business. We part on bad terms. And I don't care. Though she understands that Yami is my soulmate and that I love him, something she respects, she thinks it's unhealthy for me to wait around for him to come back to me.

After she leaves, I get a little...crazy. I'm very much alone in my house. The game shop is all I have to do. The only people I talk to our customers and my friends. But we are becomming busy. The world is moving faster than I am and my friends are being carried along with it. I've written two books and I feel like I'm dying a slow and loney death. One day, I close the store early. And I sit at my computer and I begin to write. I write for hours. I don't eat or drink or answer the phone. Someone knocks on the door after some time. I ignore them. They knock again. I go to the door and wrench it open. I know I look like shit.

"Hey, Yug," Joey says, looking at me cautiously. "You, uh, you haven't been answerin' your phone."

"I'm busy," I say, a bit too harshly.

"Wanna, uh, you know, take a break?" He's scared of me. I can feel it-- I have this wild look in my eyes, I know it. I look at the clock. 5 in the afternoon. My stomach growls and I start to laugh. I laugh for a while and Joey just looks at me. "Yug, man. You're scarin' me."

"I'm sorry Joey," I say through my laughs. "Just hold on, I'll be ready in a minute."

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

The book is about a young boy. And an ancient spirit. And it becomes a best seller. It takes me two years to write it. Two years to sort through it all, fix everything and make it my own. And when it comes out, I'm like this poster child for young authors. Authors who dare to be different and explore uncharted territories and relationships. I'm this guy everyone wants to know. And my editor is so fucking happy I thought he was orgasming over the phone. It all glances off of me. I get money and royalties. Someone thinks about turning the book into a movie, but then vanishes. I don't really care. I'm utterly and completely unfazed by it. Yami says it's because I always knew it was coming. Maybe I did.

"You're meant for great things Yugi."

"You've always said that."

"I've always meant it."

* * *

**sub-A/N:** I feel like I have to make a little sub-note here on what I consider to be Yugi's sexual orientation. While Yami is indeed gay (or so he thinks) Yugi does not feel the same way. His SO is, for all intensive purposes, Yami. My view on puzzleshipping is not that they're gay, but that they're the only ones meant for one another. And they just happen to be two guys.

This does not mean, however, that I have a problem with, you know, gay couples. I have no problems with them at all. That's just not how I see Yugi and Yami. Kays?

Thanks.


	10. Aren't We All?

**A/N:** Aaaaand we're back to the present. Yay.

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my plots and OC's.**

**Chapter 10: Aren't We All? -- Yami**

Your words hit me like a bucket of water. I am lying in a haze of our lovemaking, trying to figure things out. Then you say that. Say that you love me. I know I know I know three years ago we said it. I know that. God, do I know that. But now, I didn't expect it. The way it comes out is so strange. I stare at you.

"What?"

"You still love me?"

"Yes. I always have. I always will."

"Even if I don't." Your gaze falters.

"Well, y-yes. Yes. I will always love you. Even if you don't love me back. But that's not true, is it?" I look away from you. "Yami?"

"Yugi, I know that, after your grandfather's memorial service, I said that I loved you. But I thought we'd agreed to...move on."

"Move on," you say quietly. "Is that what this is? Moving on?" You suddenly look back at me, angry now.

"Yugi, I-"

"I'm not an idiot, Yami. I wasn't born yesterday, alright? I'm not some stupid kid anymore. I know what I feel and I love you. God, you know, I thought that...I thought that we were always meant for one another." You sit up. Lean against your headboard. "Do you remember when my mother caught us?"

"Only too well."

"I tried to explain to her what it was that I felt. That I wasn't gay. Or straight. That I wasn't anything at all. That the only thing I was, and ever would be, was your _hikari_. I will always be that other part. Even when you find someone else or you move to Egypt. I'll never be anything else. To anyone. You will always complete me." You look back down to me and lie there. "So yes. Even if you've moved on, I will love you. And no one else." You pull yourself closer to me. "Hold me. Like you used to."

"Of course _aibou_."

"And Yami?"

"Yes?"

"It's okay that you don't love me. That's not really what I needed."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I feel like I've abused you. Like I've come into your house and raped you or beaten you. I feel as though I have taken advantage of you. Because I told myself after I left here that I could no longer love you. And I meant it because I didn't want to hurt you anymore. I never thought that you would not do the same. And so, when we made love the night before, I thought it was just because we used to. But you really do love me and now I feel like a monster for taking that love without returning it. So I try and make it up to you.

We begin to pour over books about Pharaohs. You write and write and write as I teach and teach and teach. At night we make love. You don't tell me you love me. You just let me do as I please. And each night, I feel worse and worse. I have been with you for three days and already I can see that we will part like we always do. That you will shove your hands into your pockets and turn away. And that this is the vicious cycle our love will go through.

One day you shake me awake. I am reminded of that day three years ago. It's early.

"Yugi, what is it?" I ask, tired.

"I want to take you somewhere. Come on." I sigh. Pull myself out of bed. You hand me something. Swimtrunks. "Change." I do as you say.

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

"You hate surprises," I remind you. You shrug.

"I like surprising you." Pulling on a long sleeve sweater, you step outside. It is chilly, and not summer.

"Yugi it's cold."

"You're always cold," you snap, laughing at me. "You're a scarab beetle."

"I am not a beetle."

"A desert creature. That's what you are. You're sand. The sand man."

"You're babbling."

"It's early."

"And whose fault is that?" You smile at me and continue driving. It seems this place is far, but you know exactly where you're going. You drive the car along, muttering to yourself street names and mile markers.

"There!" You turn sharply and drive down a gravel path. _Turtle Lake_, the sign reads. The hot springs. You park and jump out. "Come on."

"Yugi, what are we doing?"

"We're going bowling. What the hell does it look like we're doing? We're going swimming."

"It's cold and early."

"I am aware." You peel off your sweater and jump in. "Don't make me drag you in here." I sigh and concede, wondering what this is all about. I leap in after you and we wade in the water.

"What's this all about?"

"I'm sick of reading and I'm sick of sleeping until ten in the morning. I wanted to do something different."

"We could have just gotten an early breakfast."

"That's boring. My life has become so indescribably boring lately. I just wanted to do somethign that wasn't." We swim around and talk. You ask me questions about the museum. About the people I work with. My students. I teach a group of archaeological students every semester. Some of them are older than me. But I enjoy it, even though they call me at ungodly hours of the night and morning. You're not looking at me. You're floating, staring at the sky. We're silent.

"I learned to swim before I learned to walk," you say quietly.

"Really?"

"Yeah. My mom didn't want me to swim. She was afraid I'd drown. But I just couldn't learn to walk. I crawled until I was nearly two. Then I learned to run. I had to learn how to slow down. Anyway, my dad thought that maybe I should start with the hard things first. So I learned to swim. Then run. Then walk. It was easy after all that. The only problem was I'd run and run and I couldn't figure out how to slow down and stop. I'd just slam into doors and chairs." We both laugh. I imagine a smaller you running into doors to stop yourself, then getting up and doing it all again. "Anyway, I just couldn't get the hang of it. I finally learned how, but that was only after I'd had to have my forehead stitched back together ten times. My mother was so mad! God, she hated it. She hated that I couldn't do it right. But my dad, he thought it was hilarious, me running into shit just so I could stop. He loved it. Loved that I didn't give up." I see now. What this is about. You look at me.

"I never gave up. But I will if you need me to."

"Yugi-"

"Look, I know that you don't need me to be clinging to you and simper and mewl and wonder if you'll love me back. You used to. And you're right. We promised we'd try to move on. It's just...hard for me. Because I've never been able to stop without running right into a wall. Ever since I was a kid, I've had to run and run and then crash just to start over. I just need to crash before I can get over you. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"So it's going to be hard. But I'm going to try even harder. I know I said that. That I'd try the last time. In the airport. But I will this time." You smile. Go under water. If I'm a scarab beetle, then you're a fish. You're so very comfortable here, surrounded by water. It's a blanket, you say. You pull me to the center. "Go down, open your eyes, and look up." We do. And when I do I can see the early morning sun shining through the water and the ripples we've made moving over the surface. I look at you. I've never seen you more at peace than you are now. And I know that nothing could give you more comfort than this. Except maybe one thing. But I'm not sure if I have it in me to give it to you.

The scarab beetle and the fish return to the car. You say that you wish you had gills so you could stay underwater forever. We're drying off, listening to some radio station. Some classical station you say you like to listen to sometimes. That you come out to your car early in the morning and listen to this music and drive around. There are no words, so you can think with you own much better. The scarab beetle turns to the fish and says something. Something like I'm sorry. The fish smiles and says, aren't we all?

* * *

**Sub A/N:** I just wanted to take the time to thank you guys for reviewing. It has made me really happy and I hope you stick around for more of my stories. I love you all. Digital cakes all around!!


	11. Destiny

**A/N:** Like I said before, thanks for all the reviews. I know I just keep pumping out these chapters, but I'm home and it's summer and I don't like unfinished fics. . I have no idea where this chapter is going to go. So let's just start. Also: THE COUCH RETURNS. As does the kitchen. My apologies if the short story is a raging shit waffle.

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my plots and OC's.**

**Chapter 11: -- Yugi**

I want to say it was the couch's idea to go swimming. And the kitchen. I could hear them in my head. Could imagine the conversation we'd all have.

**Kitchen:** You're up early.

**Me: **I'm sick of being up late I guess.

**Couch:** Maybe you shouldn't stay up so late...

**Me: **What I do is none of your business. Besides, you wouldn't be so upset if I was staying up late down here.

**Kitchen: **The table HAS been rather lonely.

**Couch: **As have the cushions.

**Me: **I'm going to go wake him up.

**Couch:** Ooo! Take him someplace.

**Me:** Maybe Turtle Lake? The hot springs? So I can finally tell him?

**Couch:** Yes! That's a great idea!

**Me:** I'm still burning you later.

**Couch:** Well. Shit.

He wasn't pleased, I felt, when I told him I was going to give up loving him. I've never given up before. Even when grandpa died, when my mother was angry, when my heart was broken, I didn't give up. The day before we went to the springs, I knew that enough was enough. That he needed to move on. That I needed to move on. Even if I never loved a single person ever again. I had had the greatest love of my life, the greatest _adventure_ of my life, and known my soul mate. I had become one with him too many times to count. Heard his thoughts and let him listen to mine. We had turned the couch into our own personal...thing. Whatever it was. And we had stayed connected no matter what.

But now he is growing apart from me. And even though I am trying, I cannot pick up the pieces of my heart faster than they fall. So I need to crash. Crash and burn the couch. Instead I start to write. But not that story. Another one. Yami told me that if he was the scarab beetle then I was the fish. A fish because I needed to be around comfort and solidity constantly. That I couldn't breathe or exist without it. So I start to write.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

The Scarab Beetle and The Fish

The fish was in love with the scarab beetle. He loved the way the insect crawled across the desert sands without so much as a flinch. Loved how brave he was. How much courage he held beneath that seemingly steely exteriror. He cried over the scarab beetle. Starved himself over the scarab beetle. He nearly killed himself over the scarab beetle but was too afraid to die. So he settled on silently loving the daring beetle from afar, for the beetle never came near the desert oasis. Never did he step foot in that small circle of trees and water. The fish had to swim the small passage that led from his oasis to the Nile river and then fight the current back up. But the beetle never came to the oasis.

One day the old crocodile on the Nile asked the young beetle:

"Why don't you go to the oasis? All the desert creatures go there for some time. To rejuvinate and feel more alive. Don't you want to feel alive?"

"I feel alive when I cross the sands. When the hot sun burns my back, I feel alive. When the scorching sands sting my feet, I feel alive. When I narrowly miss the tumble of the sand storms, I feel alive. I don't need an oasis to do that."

"But you have not met the fish."

"The fish?"

"Yes, the young fish in the oasis who they say has the most lovely way with words. He can string a story a mile long."

"I do love stories," the scarab beetle said softly, glancing toward the oasis. And, indeed, he did. So the scarab beetle made the choice to go to the oasis and meet the young fish.

When the fish heard the beetle was coming, he nearly died from happiness. He began to think of a wonderful story to tell the scarab so that his visit would not be in vain. When the beetle arrived in the oasis, there was a large commotion. The brave beetle who so many had heard about was visiting their humble oasis. He asked immediately for the young fish who string a story a mile long.

"Why, he lives over there, in that pond, where the water is always fresh and cool. You may rest there as well," said the desert lizard. The beetle ventured to this pond and indeed found the water refreshing and rejuvinating. It was just as the old crocodile had said: he felt more alive.

"Hello," said the fish shyly, glancing at the scarab beetle.

"You are the fish who can string marvelous tales?"

"I am the only fish here, so I suppose that would be me."

"Tell me a tale." So the fish told the scarab beetle the tale of a brave pharaoh who defeated an army of shadow creatures who dared to enter his village and steal the souls of his people. And in order to save them he gave them his own soul in return for all the souls of his people. But when the shadow creatures swallowed the soul of the pharaoh, they were consumed with light and vanquished. The pharaoh was returned to his people and he ruled in peace for many years.

"That was a lovely tale. If I come back here, will you tell me another?"

"I will," the fish said.

And so the scarab beetle returned many times over to hear the sweet voice of the fish. In time, the beetle realized that he cared more for the fish and his voice than he did for the stories. He was falling in love with the young story teller. And he wasn't sure what to do about it. For he was a beetle and his love was a fish. The fish could see that the scarab was gaining interest in him and the old crocodile warned him that a scarab beetle could not be trusted.

"They may come to the oasis, but they will always be desert creatures." But the fish did not care. He confessed his love to the beetle and felt his heart warm when the beetle confessed his love in return. A desert creature and water creature: no one had ever seen a stranger pair. But then, no one had ever seen a more complete pair either.

After many months, the fish saw that the scarab beetle longed for the desert again. At night when he slept on the bottom of the pond, he thought about the freedom of the desert. What it meant to the scarab. And so, he told the beetle, go. Go back to the desert.

"But I love you."

"And I love you. But the oasis is no place for a scarab beetle. It is where I belong because it is how I live. You are meant to live differently."

"Thank you," the beetle said with love.

"I will always love you," the fish whispered.

"I will never forget you."

"Good bye, my desert creature."

"Good bye, my story teller."

- - - - - - - - - - - -

I save the story and sit silently in the kitchen. It's a piece of crap and I know it, but it's what I feel. I have to let him go. I'm the story teller and he's the desert creature. Neither can exist without the other, nor with the other. I tell myself this. Lie to myself that he doesn't need me. That it's only hurting him. That the more I pine and beg for him, the farther he gets from me. I shut my laptop and look around. The kitchen is humming with happiness. The couch is pleased. I am angry. Angry that I didn't try to give him up sooner. That I've let him come here into my life and throw me for a whirl again. I begin making breakfast noisily. He comes down the stairs, peering into the kitchen with worried curiosity. "_Aibou_? Are you alright?"

"Fine. Just fine." I crack three eggs. Whisk them together. Throw them into a hot skillet. The smell makes me gag almost. I hate eggs. Why the hell am I making eggs? Yami loves eggs, I remember. Dammit.

"I love eggs."

"I know."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." I finish the eggs. I'm not as angry anymore. I look at him, smiling and enjoying his breakfast. And I know now what I have to do. That it's what I've always needed to do since he first left.

"I think you need to leave," I whisper quietly.

"What?" The smile fades.

"I think you should leave now." I look at him and then back at the table. This is how it needs to be. "I told you that if I need to stop, I need to crash. And I do. But if I want to get over you, I have to crash into something other than you. Because that's what I keep doing. I keep throwing myself at you and hoping that will fix everything, when all it does is make it worse. I can't stop loving you by continuing to bring you back into my life. You're gone and I need to accept that. You have, so why shouldn't I?" I am gripping the edge of my chair. I am close to flying off, I've realized. I've let go of what is real so much lately that I'm in danger of not existing. So I hold onto the chair as tightly as I can.

"Yugi..." When you say my name I can't think. God I can't think when you say it that way. "You don't have to give up."

"Yes, I do." I stand, hoping the floor will keep me down. Hoping I won't disappear. "Sometimes, it's better to. You know? I keep trying and pushing and reaching and all it does is make me unhappy because you're not there. I can't simper and mewl for you forever. It isn't fair to you and it isn't fair to me. Do you know what it's been like? Here? Alone for three years. And before that, when you left? I have never slept with or dated or kissed or even _thought_ about another human being since you. I can't even imagine being in love with someone else! It just-just can't happen that way!"

"So it's all your nothing for you."

"Yes." He comes to me and grasp my shoulders.

"Then take it all." He kisses me. And it is a kiss I've never felt before. A kiss that is fueled with something new. Before all our kisses were for love or because we needed to touch. This one is different. This one hurts. Inside. It hurts me because, the very moment his lips touch mine, I know I will never, _ever_ be able to give him up. That I really will spend the rest of my life hoping he'll love me back. This kiss tells me that.

This kiss is full of desparation.

We are desparate for one another, I realize. I realized that he loves me just as much. I realize that all these years have been spent waiting for this moment, when we both realize what everyone thought was true: Yugi and Yami are meant to be together. Could you imagine either one being with someone else? How many times have I heard those words spoken? How many times did Tea tell me that she always knew it was supposed to be this way? How many times did Joey tell me that Yami and I would be together again because destiny was on our side.

"Destiny," I whisper through the kiss.

"What?" he says, out of breath.

"It's destiny. It always has been. It always will be."

"Oh _aibou_, didn't you always know that?"

"No. I thought our run with destiny was over..." He kisses me again and this one is much different.

"I won't let you go," he whispers against my lips.

"Promise?"

"Have I ever lied?" And we stumble through the living room and fall onto the couch. We laugh because this couch is our space. This couch is whatever we have made it to be. We make love and talk about nothing important. Because the future seems to cloudy when we are together like this. Destiny leaves us alone when we need it. And always steps back in when we're done.

* * *

**sub-A/N:** My apologies for the crappy short story...


	12. We'll Be Happy, Won't We?

**A/N:** Is this it? The last chapter? No, it's not. But we're pretty damn close! What's going to happen? Not even I know. So let's go for it.

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my plots and OC's.**

**Chapter 12: We'll Be Happy, Won't We? -- Yami**

We are close to one another and I can feel that you are, finally, happy. The way you rest against me, fitting perfectly inside the hold of my arms, it shows me that this was always the way it was supposed to be. I do love you. I never got over you. Not for a single minute. Because you are my _hikari_, my other half, the light in my shadows, and I know that nothing will ever change that. I could date a thousand Adams, run to the other side of the world, and never would I find someone who fit so well within my heart. I kiss your neck and you hum with pleasure.

"Come with me to Egypt."

"Hmm?"

"You heard me little one. Come back with me."

"Isn't it hot there?" you say quietly, not even moving, only whispering.

"Yes, but you'll live. And you can still write and we can be together."

"The shop," you mutter, not really thinking. I don't know where you are right now.

"We'll sell it. Sell the house. Sell the furniture. We can do this."

"I know...I know we can."

"So come with me."

"My friends..."

"Will be your friends if you move to the moon, _aibou_, you know that." You nod and sigh, finally opening your eyes and looking at me.

"Does it ever get cool in the desert?"

"Yes."

"Well, I suppose I could learn to live with it."

"Really?" I ask, my heart not even daring to believe it just yet.

"I think it's time for a change."

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

No one is happy with your decision. They make that very clear. Though all your friends like me, losing you is not something they want to do.

"This isn't the way it was supposed to be," Tea says angrily. "_You_ were supposed to stay for a couple weeks, help Yugi, and go. Not drag him back into this, this, this _thing_ you two have going!"

"It's not his fault," you say quietly. "I want to go. I-"

"Yug, you can't be serious," Joey says, leaning across the kitchen table in your house. You've invited them there to tell them you'll be leaving when you sell the house and the shop. Only Tristan seems to make any sense out of it all.

"If this is what Yugi wants then we have to respect him. We always knew they would come together again. You said it yourself, Tea. Both of you did. We've all known this is the way it's supposed to be. Who are we to stop or misjudge it?" Tea shakes her head.

"Yugi, do you really want this?"

"Yes." You stand. "I'm not dying. I'm not going to abandon anyone. I'm going to Egypt. I'm starting over. Can't you see that?" he asks, taking her hand. "Please, try to understand." She cries. I knew she would. Told you we should just fly back and say nothing. But that would be wrong and we both know it. Tea's tears finally stop and she looks to us, through us, it almost seems.

"You really are going to do this, aren't you?" You nod. She straightens up "Well, you'll need a proper realtor, first of all. You'll need to arrange to have anything sent over to Cairo now so you don't have so much to do when the house sells." She is planning, listing, getting into this. She comments that Egypt wasn't fun the last time they were there, that now it'll be worth the trip ever more. Joey and Tristan concur, but still, no one is happy about it. It doesn't seem to bother you that much. You just keep looking at me, like you're expecting it all to vanish. I do, too. I can't really believe you're moving back with me. I know it will be a while, but it's really going to happen.

That night, I hear you fighting with your mother. I had hearing you so angry and I try to tune it out, but you voice carries all over the house.

"I don't give a damn what you think's going to happen in ten years....I told you that's not how it was! Well I guess you're not getting any fucking grandkids, are you? No mother I do mean that. I mean it more than anything. Dad doesn't feel this way. He thinks it's a great idea. Yeah well, maybe that's why you two aren't together anymore. I'll say whatever I want about it, I'm not a child anymore. I'm not hiding behind the sofa while you two fight and scream at each other and think I don't understand. I'm in love and I know what it means to lose someone over and over again. So just back off, alright?" You hang up the phone and storm into the room.

"That went well."

"Shut up," you snap, tossing the phone at me and collapsing onto the bed. "God, she's a bitch." I laugh. "Well it's true."

"I've never met your father."

"Oh man, he loves you. Like, LOVES you. I'm not really sure why. I mean, he just thinks you're the shit."

"The shit?"

"It's a term of endearment, trust me."

"Always, _aibou_. I always trust you."

"I love you, " you say turning and burying your head in my shirt. I gently place my hands behind you head and kiss you.

"We're going to be happy."

"We are, aren't we?" you ask. I can feel sleep falling over you. You're tired. Your mother has worn you down.

"Yes, _aibou_. We really are."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"I'll be there soon. Hopefully."

"As long as you come back to me," I whisper as we stand in the airport.

"I could never go too far." You smile and kiss me. Push me to the gate. Just like you did. Cram your hands in your pockets and nod. "Go! You'll miss your flight."

"I'll call you." You wink and laugh.

"You better." I turn away from you, knowing it won't be long until we share a bed once more. I'm not worried that you won't come back to me. That you'll change your mind and stay. I know you won't. Because this is how it's supposed to be. I'd stay in the city with you, but you said no way. That the desert is where I belong and it must be where you belong as well. It has to be. Your grandfather loved the desert. It's in your blood, you tell me. You'll be better off in the sands and wind. I know you're right. You always called me the desert creature, but in truth, we are both just scarab beetles.


	13. A Heart Worth Judging

**A/N**: This is the last chapter. Aww, so sad. You know, I have a confession to make. I really wanted to have Yami and Yugi NOT get together because I thought that a more bittersweet ending would feel more realistic. But I reasoned with myself that Yugi could go to Egypt. That he could live and belong there, just as much as Yami does. SO! I changed it. Before any of you could see it. BUT. Be warned, for I will not always give you a pleasant happy ending. Yami and Yugi will not always get what they want. I'm a happy little puzzleshipper, but I learned from a good writer that you have to make your characters feel total and complete hell sometime. I wonder if this applies to characters that aren't actually yours? Hmm. Interesting. Well. On with it. Also: COUCH.

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing but my plots and OC's.

**Chapter 13: A Heart Worth Judging -- Yugi**

_Six Months Later_

I have sold the house. And the shop. A man who was friends with my grandfather agreed to purchase it and live there. But he has all his own furniture so I have to sell that as well. I manage to sell all of it.

Except the damn couch.

It's taunting me, sitting on the front lawn with its sign pleading for someone to buy it. But no one has had any interest in it. As I look at it, I shake my head.

**Couch:** I'm not going away that easily.

I suddenly know what needs to be done.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

My neighbor is an old lady. She's my only neighbor. I don't know her name, but I need to ask her something. She answers the door, peering at me through the screendoor she has covering it. "What?"

"Would you be horribly offended if I had a fire in my back yard?"

"No."

"Thanks!" I start to run, but she yells for me to stop.

"What are you burning?"

"My couch." She chuckles. Tells me to hold on.

"Here you go," she says, handing me a bottle of kerosene. "I never use it. And kid? I hope you get everything all settled out."

"This is just the last piece, ma'am."

I run to the backyard where I've dragged the couch. Yami is coming to get me today. We're flying back. I was waiting for him outside because I'm a stranger in my own home now, when the couch suddenly had to be dealt with. I ask Joey to pick him up. My couch and I have some unsettled business. I dump kerosene all over it, no knowing how it will burn. But I do. I set the damn thing on fire and smile as smoke carries into the sky. All the times we made love on this sofa, the fights we had around it, the angry and harsh and untrue words that were said around it, gone. Up in smoke.

"Yugi? What the hell are you doing?" Joey and Yami are standing there.

"Hey guys."

"_Aibou_, are you alright?" Yami asks, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"Fine. I'm wonderfuly actually. I'm _perfect_. I'm just taking care of an old friend."

"I see," he says, looking at the flaming couch.

"You guys are strange," Joey says, coming to my other side and inspecting the mess. "That guy is going to be _pissed _if you fuck up the yard."

"He'll live." Joey finally convinces me to put the fire out, but by then, it's fine. I've done what I need to do. The couch is black and charred, pieces missing, the wood brittle. I needed this, I think to myself as we haul the mess to the corner so the garbage truck can take it away. I really needed this.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

What the desert does to you is strange. It strips you of all impurities. Makes you whole and complete and what you always thought you were and dreamed you would be. It makes you stronger and lighter and free. It keeps you sane and grounded while letting you dream and wander. The world outside the desert is cold and constricting. This world is unforgiving when you think about it. It doesn't allow you to be less that what you are meant to be. It doesn't let you be weak or have fears. For there is always a trial to face in the sands. The pharaohs stare at me with peering eyes. They look right through me, into my soul. I can feel them judging and weighing me. Yami once told me I had the heart of a pharaoh. I didn't completely understand what he meant then, but now I do.

I have a heart worthy of judgment. Like the pharaohs. And I'm sure that, when my soul is weighed, it will always be lighter than the feather. I know this because I have loved and fought and won and I have survived the test of the desert. It turns out I'm just as much of a scarab beetle as Yami is. I crawl and thrive in the desert. I move with it like it is my blood. I would die without it.

Yami and I make love under a desert moon. I remember all the nights back home, when he had to silence me. The moon was always there to watch over us. Always there to make sure we loved as we should. It is still here, only now it makes sure we exist as one. That we never move apart. That light and dark continue to be one and a whole. I imagine us as the moon- a being with a light side and a dark side. It cannot just have one, it must have both to truly be the moon.

We are the moon, I tell him as me make love. He doesn't understand me, he's too busy trying to feel as much as he can. His eyes half closed in his lust and love for me, he doesn't pay attention to my poetry. I don't need him to. What we do is poetry. It is enough for me. When we make love, we don't need words. I just need to say them sometimes. It is after we make love, taking and giving until we have to stop so we can build more to share, that he pays attention to my words. I've begun to write poetry, as dumb and lame and romantic as it sounds. I've found that my words are like a tick- they need to be released regularly or I'll explode. And I let them. As we cling and gasp and cry out to one another, always becoming one, always being one, the words flood through my mind. When he sleeps, exhausted from his day and from giving all he can to me, I write. Write until I can see the dawn sometimes. We wake together. He works at the museum. I write. We do well.

In the end, this was how it was supposed to be. Two desert creatures roaming the Egyptian sands, looking for an oasis so we could feel more alive. Turns out, the oasis was always there. It was us.

* * *

**sub A/N: **That's it. I love you all and I hope you read the next one!!


End file.
